Nayika Writes

  The first five times that Khushi and Arnav didn't meet

Khushi’s face fell as she listened to Payal explain that they couldn’t go shopping because Arnavji was ill and Anjaliji refused to leave him behind for the day. Most of her dismay was because she had been looking forward to the now-aborted outing but there was a very small corner inside her that niggled at the thought of Arnavji being ill. She didn’t know how to ask for more details without making her sister suspicious and so she reluctantly began to say her goodbyes before Payal stopped her.

“But why would I ask him how small he is Lavanyaji? I know how tall he is.” “Chamkili, it’s my turn to train you now so you have to do exactly what I say. Next time you’re alone with ASR you need to say: ‘before we get married, I need to know how chotte you actually are.’” Lavanya was genuinely happy for Arnav and Khushi’s upcoming wedding, having moved on in her life months ago, but she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to get some amusement out of the situation. “But he’ll just say ‘what the..?’ or ‘you know I’m 6 foot Khushi’ then what?” “Then, you need to repeat ‘how chotte are you exactly?’ just like I did. Okay?” Lavanya would have never been brave enough to make a joke like that with ASR but she knew Khushi could and still have a hope of being alive the next day.

He ran his hand across his cheek, pulling the skin taught, feeling the bones beneath. His eyes flickered back to the computer screen and met with an identical pair. They weren’t the only twins he was confronted with. The sharp nose mirrored his own, the eyebrows followed the same lines his own traversed and the lips curved in the same ways. Only a scar under the left eyebrow reassured him the man was somebody else. Arnav Singh Raizada. A strand of long hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring the screen. The picture showed a similarly ungroomed man but it looked purposeful: the lank hair and unshaven beard clearly a conscious choice. He looked beyond the picture at his reflection in the computer, his own unkempt hair and rough beard looked back at him defiantly, seemingly ready to retort about their lack of access to running water and blades should he even dare to question their length. The man in the picture was 36 years old to his own 28, married with 2 children and ric...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Five. 'When she comes into your life you won't even realise and she'll become your whole world.' Arnav leaned against the doorframe, looking out at his garden and reflected on Anjali's words. The emptiness inside him, the feeling of loneliness, of being incomplete was always with him but never more so than now. A rough gust of wind swept through his garden retreat. It jolted awake the plants which had fallen into a soothing slumber in the cool Delhi night before swirling around Arnav reminding him of his own humanity. If Di was right, were these lonely nights coming to an end? Would he have a companion, a friend to sit beside him and fill the ache in his heart? Would she soothe his bruised soul with gentle kisses and loving words? But how could he give so much power to someone else? How could he let his happiness, his existence and his world rest in someone else's palm? It...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Four. Khushi put away her prasad, thanking Devi Maiyya again for helping her to find a job so quickly. She rushed down the stairs and towards the street before she stopped, remembering her bare feet. She ran back to the mandir to jam her shoes onto her feet, not wanting to be late and was almost ready to go when she heard a voice call out to her. 'Excuse me! I think you dropped this.' Khushi gasped as she recognised the white envelope in the stranger's hands. Her appointment letter! 'Thank you sir, thank you so much! You don't know what a big favour you've done for me today.' Khushi took the envelope and reverently put it inside her bag, this time inside the zipped pocket cursing the owner of the store she'd bought the bag from as she did. He could have cost her her job today, her entire future. She knew the bag wasn't worth Rs. 200 if it couldn't even keep o...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Three. Now that there was no rush for Buaji's inhaler Khushi drove more carefully. It was a new city and she didn't want her first day to also be her last. Other people obviously didn't have the same thinking and she swerved quickly to avoid a large white car in her path. She stopped her scooter and closed her eyes in prayer thanking Devi Maiyya for saving her life. She wasn't ready to die yet; still had so many things to do, so many things to see. She spared a look backwards for the large white car, probably belonged to some spoilt rich kid with no responsibilities and no life experience. If she didn't have Buaji to think about she would have given him a stern talking to about driving etiquette and the value of a stranger's life. Instead Khushi started her scooter again determined to arrive back at Buaji's house safely. --- Arnav pressed his horn loudly, irritated at the th...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav  didn't  meet Two. The plain white scarf blew up in front of him obscuring his vision. He recognised the material instantly as plain cotton but as it glided across his face it felt softer than even Kashmiri hand-woven silk. Arnav closed his eyes and let his skin experience the soft touch but the dupatta was gone all too quickly and floated away behind its owner like a devoted lover. He briefly contemplated following the girl and sourcing the supplier of such soft cotton but brushed the thought aside. --- Khushi prayed for her sister, prayed that she would find true happiness with a truly worthy partner.  She turned away hesitantly before turning back and quickly adding a wish for a worthy partner of her own.  The key, she tied onto the end of her dupatta to safeguard it from her own forgetfulness, not wanting to negate her wishes in any way. He had no reason to believe in God but if there was on...

The first five times that Khushi and Arnav didn't meet One. Khushi pulled to a stop in front of the large mansion. Sheesh Mahal. It was large, unwelcoming  and austere. Not the venue she would have chosen for her own wedding but the bright lights and pounding music assured her this was the place. This was the hotel Jeejaji had said wasn't it? She got off her scooter, still clutching the deed papers to her chest and had just lifted her hands to pray for Devi Maiyya's support when her phone rang. 'Jeejaji? Where are you? Jiji and I have been trying to ring you all day. I need to talk to you.' --- Arnav opened his eyes and sighed, barely registering the unremarkable model on the catwalk dressed in a show-stopping red lengha of his own design for the finale. He had expected to finally be at peace once he bought Sheesh Mahal; once he reclaimed what was rightfully his. But still he felt restless... he felt... incomplete.

'Khushi be quiet!' 'But Arnavji, my chappal! Maybe these men have some glue I can use?' 'Khushi! We're detectives! We're supposed to be undetected! Not run in front of the marks waving our chappals about!' 'But Arnavji, you're not wearing chappals. You're wearing shoes. Hey Devi Maiyya, did you want to wear your chappals today? I should have known! I'm such a bad wife! What will Amma say when she hears?' 'Khushi.' 'What?' 'RUN!' 'But I can't! My chappal!' --- (coming soon)

Read all my other One Shots over here . Please note I retain sole ownership of all the works of fiction on this blog so please do not reproduce or alter my work and claim it as your own.